The Sun in the North
by sealost
Summary: Princess Elia, eldest daughter to Prince Mors and niece to Prince Doran of House Martell, is left alone in the freezing North, far away from her family, and entirely alone. Her father plans to leave behind one of his nine children in each region of Westeros, in order to ensure a peaceful and prosperous future for Dorne. How will Elia cope with her new life at Winterfell? OC/Robb S
1. Chapter 1

**On Our Return to Westeros**

The crunch of ice has been haunting our journey since we docked at White Harbour.

_Why, in the name of all the gods, is there ice in summer!?_

The journey across the Narrow Sea had been long and hard, despite the fact that our quarters had been more than deserving of our royal status. We each had our own rooms, where carpets adorned the floors and beds were laden with silk and furs. Father even brought along a singer to keep us entertained throughout the notoriously arduous journey, although he couldn't ever really stop vomiting for long enough to sing.

I was lucky - it turns out that sea sickness only affects me when the wind is gale force, so I found the journey interesting rather than harrowing, as did many of my siblings (and to my secret delight in the case of Annareil - not that I'd ever actually admit to that). I found that it gave me a great deal of time to write more about the last ten years we'd spent in Essos, and most especially about Lys, which was without a doubt, my favourite of the Free Cities. Nara, my best friend and lady's maid, wasn't seasick either for most of the journey (although she absolutely hated being at sea), so we kept each other company, laughing and already lamenting our time in Essos. Really, it wasn't too bad after all.

The same cannot be said for Westeros.

Lys had been so beautiful. At every turn there were the most exquisite buildings, made of limestone, granite and marble, and adorned with intricate engravings. In front of them, there was usually a chaotic mix of numerous sellers calling out and advertising their fresh produce, fish and shellfish, or even jewellery and clothes - you could get lost for hours in those markets. Then there was the sea, blue, crisp and sparkling, winking at you as if to tempt you to discard all your inhibitions and dive into its waters. And the sun was always shining, catching the gold, purple and silver tones in the buildings.

Since crossing the Narrow Sea, I haven't seen the sun.

And the sea was a nasty grey.

Onwards we go, following father as usual. Despite Lys being all the way South, father was insistent that we travel all the way North first, in order to work our way downwards through Westeros towards Dorne, paying our respects to each of the great Houses on our way (apart from the Greyjoys of course - father merely laughs at the fact that they are still considered a noble house).

And so we go, reversing the journey we had taken over ten years ago on our way to Essos.

Crunch, crunch, crunch…

Rather monotonous, just like the landscape. And the buildings - cold, grey stone.

It has taken us five days, but we have nearly reached Winterfell. I'll be glad to finally stop travelling, but I am slightly apprehensive about staying there. Last time we were at Winterfell, I didn't exactly make friends with the Stark children. Being the eldest girl in the family, I was shoved in the direction of Sansa, with everyone expecting us to become good friends. I liked her doll collection, but really that was about it; she was nice but that's about it - too girly and prissy for me. I tried to make friends with the boys - after all, my brother Lewyn and I were generally inseparable so I was used to tagging along with him. Apparently, that was not going to work either. Robb, Theon and Jon made fun of me the whole time, which eventually led to me and Robb getting into a scuffle (I can't really remember what sparked it all - but I do remember him being an arrogant git!). In the end, I just used to confine myself to the library, keeping away from everyone, but thoroughly enjoying myself; I absolutely love reading.

"Nara, do you remember much about Winterfell?" I ask.

"Not much, Princess", she says, "after all, I was only nine. I do remember the huge fireplaces though! It was so warm inside! And they always gave me enormous portions of food!"

"Haha! Trust you to remember the food!"

"Well, I was always starving! How I'm not fat I'll never know", she laughs. After some thought she continued, "I remember you and Lord Robb getting into a huge fight. Prince Mors so angry I'm surprised you're still alive, Princess!"

"Yes", I sigh, "I was just thinking about that. I wonder if Robb is still such a git!" I chuckle.

"Well, I hear he's quite handsome now, Princess", said Nara with a glint in her eye, returning the chuckle.

I roll my eyes. I refuse to be paraded in front of him, like some prize horse. Anyway, that's not in my 'contact' - I am to be a ward, not a wife.

Nine Martell children, one for each of the nine great houses of Westeros, and one to be left behind in each region throughout the length of this journey (again, apart from the Iron Isles); my eldest brother, Lewyn, and youngest, Zakar, will return to Dorne with my father. My father, ever the diplomat, came up with this scheme following the Robert's rebellion, and the death of his beloved sister. He no longer trusted my uncle, Prince Doran, with the protection or future prosperity of Dorne, and so, planned to forge strong alliances with each house in Westeros by leaving one of his children as ward, charged with keeping the peace for the safety of Dorne. Trying to marry each of us off would have been too complicated I presume - not that I would have wanted that!

This is really the biggest reason I have been dreading returning to Westeros. It means the loss of my family, and the loss of every person I care about. I will be left behind somewhere, all on my own.

Crunch, crunch, crunch…

Zakar squeals, jolting me out of my thoughts. "There there! Is that it?!" he shouts, pointing and gesturing in delight.

_Yes, there it is - Winterfell._

_A/N: Hi all! Thanks for taking the time to read my work :) This is actually the first fanfiction I've ever written - so please feel free to review and/or critique it! If you guys think its any good, I'll upload some more chapters.  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places in the story, apart from the protagonist Princess Elia Martell- all rights belong to the fantastic G.R.R. Martin._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Just some information I realised I should have given you in the first chapter: The story starts about two years before the events of A Game of Thrones, and will continue eventually within the canonical storyline, keeping to main events (although you will have to pretend that Prince Mors, brother to Prince Doran, did not die as an infant!). Also, it is rated M in case of swearing and possible future scenes of sexual nature._

**Chapter 2: A Royal Arrival **

The horses continued to trudge onwards in their usual methodical manner, but their riders could barely sit still. The girls were shrilly calling to one another, chattering and giggling about what they were going to find, and the boys trying to urge their horses on, challenging one another in excitement. My brothers and sisters couldn't wait to finally see Winterfell. Most of them weren't even born the last time we stayed here, or were too young to remember, so it was their first time seeing a true Westerosi castle, in all its glory. And indeed, Winterfell did look impressive; it seemed to rise out of the hill itself, and look down upon its lands like some ancient protector. Perhaps it was - after all, they say a girl could walk from one side of the North to the other, as naked as her nameday, and remain a maiden.

_Although, why and who would ever walk naked through this frozen land is beyond me!_

I shiver slightly, and pull my cape tighter, and the hood lower down over my face.

Around me, the excited chatter has spread through the entire party as we start our ascent towards the castle. Mirya, our caretaker, cusses and threatens us (in what I like to think is her loving way) until we are all silent. First impressions, according to father, are of the utmost importance; everyone must stand still, straight and be silent. After all our travels in Essos, we knew the procedure.

Clop, clop, clop, clop.

A myriad of noises announced us as we reached the paved ground of the castle, metal horse shoes against stone, the carts juddering along, laden with our possessions and father's treasures that he collected over the ten years in Essos.

Stone faced soldiers lined the way. _What a jolly bunch! So much for the loud and gaudy festivities that usually greeted us in the Free Cities - coloured petals used to cover the streets, and you wouldn't be able to hear anything over the cacophony of laughter and chatter._

Grey soldiers, grey walls.

White noise.

And there is the Stark household. Quite a royal greeting by Westerosi standards I presume. I imagine turning my horse around, and fleeing, running away from all this stillness and cold. I focus instead on controlling my breathing and my facial expressions - impassive, calm, collected. I get down off my horse.

Thump, thump, thump, as we get down. We all know our places, and line up accordingly, as we have done for the past ten years, and bow.

"My Lord Stark! It is such a pleasure to see you again after all these years. It really has been too long, my friend," says my father in his deep voice.

"Prince Mors, welcome to Winterfell. Our hospitality is yours for as long as you should desire," graciously replies Lord Stark.

As the formalities continue, I look around at their little party. Catelyn standing tall as I remember her, and Sansa by her side. I see Arya and Bran... I remember them quite well! There is a little boy who must been born after we left for Essos. I turn subtly to look at the other side. There's Robb, Theon and Jon, all standing together like a big gang of brothers. I scoff under my breath and look away: _bet they're still a bunch of idiots. _And I spot Maester Luwin, not looking a day older than I remember! He was the only real friend I had ever made at Winterfell - I had spent so much time with him in the library, and following him around everywhere. I automatically give him a huge smile.

"Yes Lord Stark, let us feast together this eve. I hope you will accept these gifts I have brought for you from Essos," my father continues.

"But first, introductions, for it has been far too long, and I have had far too many children, ha! Lord Stark, my eldest son Lewyn, Donar, Fewlyn, Annareil, Tomas, Leia, Rhia, Zakar my youngest, and Elia my eldest daughter."

I curtsey as I am called, and as I rise, my hood falls back. I see Robb staring at me, his eyes completely fixed on me. I automatically stare back - _childish I know, but I don't care. Oh no, should I not blink too?! _Before I have time to decide, he looks away. I keep watching him. He's grown so tall now - I remember being taller than him, even though he was a year older than me. And broad, wow very broad. Gods, he's handsome… damn him! Bet he's still an arse.

His blue eyes catch mine as they snap back to me. A flirtatious smile starts to spread over my lips as I stare back - _no! no, no, don't you dare Elia!_ I thankfully snap out of it as I hear my father accept Lord Stark's offer for us to rest and refresh before the welcome feast tonight. _Fantastic! After all those days riding, my aching body is crying out for a hot bath._

I pick up Zakar and give him a big kiss on his forehead as he ogles around happily. _He's so adorable. _And we follow the slaves (servants! I mean servants! This is going to take some getting used to) up the stairs and along winding passages towards our bedchambers. I leave Zakar with Mirya, and run to check out my new room. It's quite beautiful, in its own way. Soft purple and fuscia patterned carpets adorne the floors, contrasting with the hard grey of the stone walls. And Nara was right, the rooms really are warm! I let my cape fall to the floor, and in doing so, catch sight of the bed. Its covered with furs and looks so incredibly inviting that I make a beeline for it, ready to fling myself onto it.

"Princess, no!" screams Nara.

"Nara! You gave me such a fright! I didn't even hear you come in."

"Just unpacking your evening dresses first, Princess, so all the creases will be smoothed out in time for tonight's feast. Speaking of which, don't you dare get into bed! I know you - head on the pillow and we won't see you again until tomorrow morning. You simply can't miss the feast."

I groan and grumble as she unpacks my things and draws a hot bath for me.

"If I fall asleep and drown in the bath, it will be all your fault Nara," I say jokingly.

She ignores me. "Which dress do you think would be best for tonight, Princess?" She loves getting me all dressed up for these things, and, quite frankly, I would probably look like a complete wretch half the time if not for her and Mirya.

"I don't know, I'm not very good with these things. Um… the green one?"

"No, not good enough. After the way those boys were all looking at you today, we need to make sure you look your best tonight," she giggles.

"Oh Nara! It's probably just because I'm the only one here who is around their age. Or perhaps they were thinking about our last encounter," I groan, the apprehension for tonight growing in my stomach.

"Oh, shut up!"

"You know, if you weren't my best friend, Nara, you could get into serious trouble for speaking to me in that way," I say jokingly.

"Oh, shut up," she repeats. "Definitely the red dress, and the gold headband. Now, how shall we do your hair?" she says, turning round beaming.

I sigh, letting all my breath out and allowing myself to sink below the water.


End file.
